


Orbits

by Spoon888



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emotional Constipation, Implied Sticky, M/M, Megatron Is Traumatised But Won't Admit It, Past Rape/Non-con, They Care About Each Other But Have No Idea How To Express It, sex as comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:33:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23014054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: Perhaps one day they'll talk about it, but Megatron would rather it not be tonight.
Relationships: Megatron/Starscream (Transformers)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 299





	Orbits

Megatron didn't trust Starscream because only a fool would. He didn't trust him with power, or responsibility, or to be left alone in a room full of equipment for longer than fives minutes for fear he'd re-emerge with a super weapon pointed directly at _him_.

But he trusted Starscream to kill for him, to plot for him, and to shoot him in battle. He trusted him with his frame, and in his berth. He trusted those terrible claws and those sharp denta, the thighs that could crush a helm and thrusters that spat fire hot enough to melt dura-steel.

And Starscream was his mate, in every sense of the role but legally. They had shared too much to ever be rid of one another now. Starscream was his in every way which another could be, and he had assumed, perhaps prematurely, that such a claim extended both ways.

There was this little ... _imbalance_ between them though, Starscream claimed. A power imbalance.

"A mate is an equal." Starscream's optics had glinted in the dim of the command bridge. "And we're not equal. Not yet."

"You _can't_ have my throne," Megatron had growled dangerously.

Starscream rolled his optics, "I'm not talking about _that_ sort of power."

His meaning hit Megatron like a frag grenade. This was really just a diplomatic, convoluted way of saying he wanted to spike him.

Having given it a moment of thought, Megatron couldn't blame him. They'd been together countless of times but never in that way. Never with the scales tipped in the other direction. And as lovers of over a millennia, did Starscream not have the right to explore Megatron as thoroughly as Megatron had him?

This was a dilemma he had not foreseen. His options were limited. Agreeing and allowing Starscream his will would be ...unpleasant for him. But rejecting him could result in long term problems. Starscream would assume he was being stubborn and selfish. Or worse, he would want to know _why_. And Megatron had no explanation he was willing to give.

"Of course," He had no choice but to agree. He tried not to feel like he had just consented to his own undoing. It was only Starscream. He would be fine.

The last time he had been anything but the spiker was before war, before the fighting pits even, down in the musky sweltering depths of the planet's core. The mines.

It hadn't been a particularly enjoyable experience, then. He had been inexperienced, young, soft under the plating and an easy target. He was a comparatively large mech now, yes, but as mining frames went, he had been far from impressive. He had never been 'forced', but without a considerable amount of cohesion he never would have done it more than once. It hurt, but so did fuel deprivation. He hadn't been the only young mecha willing to trade pleasure for an extra ration.

Alone in his quarters and waiting for his mate's arrival, Megatron settled on his berth and locked those resurfacing memories away, one-by-one. The room and his berth still smelt vaguely of Starscream -unsurprising with how often the seeker was there- and his unique, warm scent offered some comfort. The air was fresh and ventilated, the room cool, open, and bright. The berth firm, but comfortable. There was no smoke, no heat, no rock. And there a distinct _lack_ of mined shrapnel digging into his knees and cutting his servos. Here, he was safe.

"Already waiting for me?" Starscream called to him slyly. Megatron flinched. He hadn't heard the door open.

Starscream's obvious eagerness caused a rainbow of reactions across Megatron's frame. His handsome mate's arrival stirred something in him, his hardware reacting as it always did when the seeker visited him late on a night.

But knowing what was to come, his spark twisted with unpleasant apprehension. Megatron forced it down with a surge of frustration. He wasn't a naive young miner anymore. He had raged war and conquered galaxies. He could take a spiking.

"You're late," he found his voice, strong -thankfully, but resentful, despite his best efforts.

Starscream didn't notice. He climbed onto the spacious berth and crossed the distance between them, crawling panther-like, predatorily, until he was poised on all fours above Megatron. The heat from his flight-fresh frame radiated down.

"Well?" Starscream drew circles on Megatron's chest. "Shall we?"

Megatron hummed noncommittally, and then forced himself into an actual vocalisation, "Yes."

Starscream tipped his chin up and kissed him. The familiarity of the act melted the tension from Megatron's broad shoulders.

He opened his mouth and Starscream made the happiest noises at the access granted to him. His glossa swept past Megatron's lips, and Megatron sucked on it playfully, groaning when it slipped away.

Starscream parted from him with a breath, already sprinkling kisses along his jaw to reach his audial.

"I'm going to spike you so hard," he promised.

Megatron felt cold.

"How do you like it?" Starscream was asking, like this was something Megatron did often enough to _have_ a preference. 

Megatron knew Starscream liked to ride him, it gave him more control, he said. But Megatron didn't think he could cope with guarding his every expression as Starscream drove into him, and he didn't want to be complicit in his own pain.

Wordlessly he rolled over, onto his knees and forearms.

Starscream might have made some derogatory comment about his choice, or his apparent eagerness, but Megatron didn't hear. Too busy focusing on the berth beneath him and the smell of the room, dismissing ridiculous memory files that kept trying to remind him of raw energon, and smoke, and two many big frames in too small a space. His fingers gripped the covers beneath him.

Starscream reached around and began playing with the buttons on his chest, the other servo groping and massaging the swell of his upturned aft. "Open for me?"

Megatron tried. He really did. Concentrating on uncoiling the tightness of his frame and sending a command down to unlatch his panel. It didn't. He tried again, and his processor blared a negative beep.

"...It's stuck," he grunted, crippling humiliation worsening his attempts at unlatching it. Even his spike -which usually had no trouble popping out, invited or not- was locked down. "It's... It's been a while."

"Why am I not surprised," Starscream teased warmly. He made a thoughtful noise, and Megatron bit down on his glossa when he felt a thumb swipe over the tightly sealed valve panel. "I can try pushing it back?"

He'd have a job of it. Getting into a locked down panel could be a pain.

"A pickaxe usually works well," Megatron offered, thinking back to how quickly his fellow miners could break him open, back in the day.

Starscream's servos fell away, but there was no sound of him scurrying off for something stiff to jimmy him open.

He angled his helm back, and saw Starscream sat back on his knees, frowning at him.

"What?"

"I'm not - _cracking_ you open like a- a _can of polish!"_ Starscream squawked incredulously. "Who the frag- _who_ does that?!"

When he put it like that, it was rather barbaric. Megatron's jaw clenched too tightly for him to offer a witty retort.

"Who...?" Starscream face fell, optics widening with dawning understanding. And humiliation sunk it's claws into Megatron's spark, because-

"You stupid old fool!" Starscream cried, aghast, "Why didn't you say anything?!"

Megatron was _not_ going to have an argument with Starscream on all fours with his aft stuck in the air. He rolled onto his back and gathered his tattered dignity around as best he could, index finger extended and poised for some vehement defensive _pointing_.

"There's nothing to say!" He thundered, because there wasn't, and being loud meant being right. "You're jumping to some dangerous conclusions, seeker! You'll do well to remember what happens to those who besmirch their superiors before spreading lies and slander-!"

"Like I'd believe that!" Starscream snapped, pointing just as vehemently. "Stop posturing and tell me the truth. Someone _hurt_ you-"

Megatron climbed off the berth, flustered and embarrassed and-

"Megatron," Starscream's sharp voice dropped into something soft and worried. Megatron turned at the neck to scowl, but Starscream was looking at him with bright, clear optics. Megatron thought he was going to continue his line of questioning. He didn't. They stared at one another in silence.

It gave Megatron a chance to calm himself down. He breathed in and out, vents ragged, until his fuel pump slowed, and the rush of panic began to pass. Starscream waited, watching him, then patted the berth beside him in invitation.

Miserable and ashamed, Megatron dropped down heavily beside him, his head hanging between his shoulders.

Starscream reached for him, then seemed to hesitate. Megatron shuttered his optics, wondering if he'd managed to ruin it all in one fell swoop -when arms came around him anyway, a chin dropping to his shoulder.

They remained like that for some time, until Megatron finally lifted an arm to half-heartedly embrace him too. Starscream nuzzled into him, but still didn't speak. Megatron wished he would. He didn't want to say the first word.

Finally he gathered his courage and cleared his vocaliser. "I should I have warned you before-"

Starscream rubbed his shoulder lightly, "You shouldn't have _had_ to do anything." He corrected. "You could have said 'no'."

Megatron huffed. "And when you asked again?"

Starscream hummed, "Maybe I would have gotten the hint and left it well enough alone."

Megatron didn't quite believe that, but at least he wasn't being pushed to spill a lifetime of awful secrets. 

"It's fine." He shook his helm, trying to clear off invasive thoughts. "Tonight was simply a bad night for it."

"Hmm," Starscream leaned against him, all warm and smooth and smelling like polish. Megatron turned his head to bury his nose against the side of his head. He breathed him in. He was a unique sort of aromatherapy.

"You know what we should do instead?" Starscream purred. 

Megatron froze, waiting in cautious silence.

" _Cuddle_."

Megatron could _hear_ Starscream's smirk. He snorted and shouldered the seeker off, amused when Starscream overbalanced with a squawk and fell to his back on the berth. "Do I look like an Autobot to you?" He rumbled.

Starscream arranged himself into a more sultry poise. "Of course not my lord, whatever was I thinking."

Megatron climbed over him and pressed him back into the berth with a kiss fierce and lingering. Starscream moaned and writhed under him, opening up and drawing him in, hypnotically irresistible.

Megatron succumbed to his pull and let all cognitive function fade away. Memories of what had happened in those dark, humid caves beneath Cybertron a lifetime ago were the last thing on his processor then.

Starscream lifted him out of the depths, a true prince of the skies. 


End file.
